“Okay.” Slowly, he closes the door.
“I thought I’d carpe diem! Seize the freaking day. Find my inner Bethany and have sex with a guy instead of myself for a change!” My voice escalates. Damn, it feels good to vent. So I go deeper. If a little truth feels good, then a lot will feel great, right? “I thought since I just kissed you, I’d have a fair comparison of a good kiss. But J.T.’s kiss wasn’t as good as yours. Or maybe I wasn’t as good. When I asked him to come in and have sex with me, he said no. When I asked him if he’d like to go out this weekend, he said no again. Then he ran away from me. He ran!
“He is a runner, though, so I guess that’s not surprising.” I laugh, the sound slightly hysterical. “You said if he was interested, all I had to do was offer and there was no way he would turn me down. Well, he did. Not only did he turn me down, I saw him kissing another woman tonight. In his townhouse.” I offer a bitter smile and force out the rest. “He told me he had to work, and then he called up his next date to have sex with her instead of me.”
“Butler.” Vince regards me like I’m this pitiful thing, which fuels my anger.
“Now I’m here, turned down, and I feel like shit.” My voice wavers, but I’m on a roll. “I feel the same way I did after I found out Lex cheated on me. I feel worthless and unattractive and clumsy…” I wave my hands, calling forth more words to describe the emotions bubbling up inside of me. Three years of tamping them down and they’ve returned with a vengeance. On a soft whine, I finish with “This is your fault, Vince.”
I sniffle and turn my eyes toward the ceiling, pissed that I’m about to cry. J.T. has been blowing me off for some time, and I was stupid enough to believe I could seduce him. In part because Vince assured me I could.
Vince walks to me and I take one angry step back. He reaches me easily, his palms wrapping around my upper arms. His blue eyes warm as he stops me with a sincere glare. “You’re none of those things. You’re valuable and you’re attractive and your clumsiness is charming.”
“Sure, make jokes!” I shake off his hold. “You don’t know what it’s like to be found unattractive. To be rejected. To be cheated on!” I turn and gesture at him in an accusatory manner. Yes, Leslie left him, but she didn’t cheat on him. It’s different. “You’ve been out there more times than I want to know about, and I’ll bet you were never rejected.”
He opens his mouth, maybe to argue, but I karate chop the air to stop him.
“You know what? I don’t want to hear it. I want to know why you lied to me.”
His face contorts as confusion surfaces. “I never lied to you.”
I poke his chest with my finger. “You said I didn’t need practice kissing, and yet when I kissed J.T. he ran straight home and called someone else. Why didn’t you tell me I was so awful?”
“Because you’re not.” He leans into my finger and I curl my hand into a fist, overcome by his nearness as much as his sincerity. His voice is low and laced with gravel when he says, “If that asshole is sleeping with someone other than you, then clearly you were kissing the wrong guy.”
I hear what’s under those words—what he’s not saying. I draw in a thin breath. “And who’s the right one?”
He answers by straightening his shoulders. He doesn’t grab me up and kiss me. He doesn’t say, “Me.” Instead he asks a question. “Why were you comparing kissing me to kissing J.T.?”
I shrug, then lie. “I have no idea.”
The truth? Vince kissed a million times better than J.T.
“Not that it matters,” I tack on. “You’re not interested in me.”
His eyes narrow, his voice dipping low enough that my stomach flutters. “Are you interested in me?”
Unfair. That question is totally unfair. If I say yes, which is the answer, I risk being rejected again. I tell him the only truth I can bear. “Vince, I can’t take another no tonight.”
He goes blurry when my eyes fill with tears. I blink, holding them back by sheer force of will.
“Yeah, well, neither can I.” His jaw sets, a muscle flickering in his cheek.
The score for whatever movie he’s watching on TV climaxes, and violins and horns reach a crescendo. I don’t look away from Vince. His expression is deadly serious. He’s asking if I want J.T. back. He’s asking if I want J.T. at all. I don’t even have to think about it, but the answer is glued to the roof of my mouth.
At my hesitation, Vince’s shoulders round. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You deserve better, Butler. I know you wanted things to work out but—”
“I didn’t want him,” I interrupt. “I was taking your advice.”
Vince watches me carefully. I can feel the change in the atmosphere, the literal shift of atoms between us. He takes my hands in his bigger, warmer ones, his eyes trained on mine. “Say the word, Butler.”
He’s daring me, but my boldness has shriveled into a tiny, shivering ball. I’m terrified to speak first.
I shake my head. I can’t do it.
“Say the word,” he repeats. Slowly. “And I guarantee you won’t go to bed alone tonight.”
Chapter 14
Vince
Neither of us is willing to put our ass on the line. My heart is thundering, my breathing shallow. I never dreamed Jackie would try to sleep with that jerk tonight. When she showed up angry and spouting all that stuff about how he rejected her, a very big part of me was relieved. I didn’t know how relieved I’d be.
I squeeze her fingers gently and, damn it to hell, I’m going to have to be the one who goes first. She’s vulnerable. As evidenced by her closed posture and the slight shake working down her arms.
“Lex is an asshole and Jaundice isn’t much better,” I state.
She doesn’t pull away from me, so I keep talking.
“If he didn’t want you after you invited him in, then he’s a fucking idiot, because I wouldn’t have to think about my answer if you invited me to your bed.”
Her voice is small when she asks, “You wouldn’t?”
“Try me.”
My cards are on the table. I can’t be any clearer. I wait, regret and anticipation and longing flooding my chest like a toxic mix of chemicals. The seconds of silence that hang in air threaten to choke me.
“Yes.” Her voice is a whisper, her eyelids fluttering as a single tear streaks down her cheek. I’m so flummoxed, I’m positive I didn’t hear her right. Lifting my hand to her cheek, I thumb away the teardrop.
“Say yes again, Butler, and I’ll take you upstairs and thoroughly blow your mind.”
Her mouth curves up at the corner and this time there’s no mistaking the “yes” that rolls off her tongue.
I don’t hesitate.
I slam my lips into hers, walking her toward the stairs as I palm her back with one hand and her head with the other. A needy sound escapes her throat and I’m erect instantly.
My plans this evening were to watch a survival movie, get drunk, and sleep on the sofa. Until just now. Now my plans are…well, they’re unsortable in my head. Just flashes of my mouth on Jackie’s, then my mouth on her body. Her flavor, her cries, the way she feels and moves and tastes.
We reach the stairs in a rush. Jackie’s heel hits the back of the second step and she starts to fall backward. I go with her, earning a slight rug burn on my forearm when I move fast to keep her from bonking her head.
“Told you I was clumsy.” She’s laid out on the steps beneath me in an incredible dress I can’t wait to peel off her.
I lower my body over hers and correct with “Charming.”
She smiles. So do I. Then I’m kissing her again, suddenly uninterested in getting to the bedroom. My hand runs the length of her calf and slips beneath her skirt to above her knee before venturing higher, to her thigh. She’s making cute little panting noises, so I keep going.
“You look gorgeous, by the way,” I say against her mouth, trailing my tongue down her neck. She mutters “Thanks” and arches her head back to grant me more acce
ss. I close my lips over her pulse point and suckle.
Her hands go to my hair, spearing upward and pulling a little.
I like it way too much. I’m vibrating with the need to strip her out of her clothes. Caged desire has built over the past several months—for her. I knew if I ever kissed her again it would be like this, a frantic race to get naked and find out just how good it was to be inside her. I know she wants that same thing—that I’ve won the contest between me and that jackass runner she thought she wanted. But there’s another, more important race to win: making Jackie so satisfied she sees stars.
Mission. Accepted.
I brace one hand on the stairs and trail my other hand up her thigh to her panties. She’s soft as silk and when I tuck my finger beneath the thin material, I find her slick and ready. I stroke her as she utters a plea. She doesn’t have to beg. I’m willing to turn her on.
“Jaundice is an idiot.” I stroke her again and her back bows beneath my touch. I kiss her collarbone and sit up enough to maneuver the side zipper on her dress. I didn’t get the chance to admire her in it when she kamikazed me at the door, but now, I’m looking. And I like what I see. I like what I hear too. Not only her muffled pleas but also her shoes tumbling down the steps and hitting my foyer floor with a pair of dull thuds. Red like her dress, the spike heels are tossed carelessly onto the floor.
Careless is okay for the shoes but it’s the one thing I refuse to be with Jackie. She matters too much to me.
Her breaths tighten, quickening when I find her clit and stroke gently, then firmly, testing what she likes. Firm, as it turns out. Firm and fast. Her eyes squeeze close, her lips parted in ecstasy.
“Vince.”
“I’ve got you, Butler.”
“God, you feel so good.”
That’s a win if I’ve ever heard one. I try not to smile in triumph but I can’t help myself. Her eyes open halfway and she grabs my face and tugs me down, kissing me hard. Stroking my tongue as my fingers stroke her. I lose her mouth as she lets loose a cry of pure bliss. Her hips shift and pump as I slow my fingers, gentling her to the end of her orgasm. Her body relaxes, her cheeks warm to rosy, and a satisfied hum exits her throat.
This time when her eyes open, her pupils are lust-blown. Her smile is warm and lazy and oh so satisfied. When her hand goes between our bodies to grip my cock, my entire body stiffens with it.
“You’re much better than I am at that,” she murmurs as she gives me a gentle squeeze.
“What I wouldn’t give to watch you do that and compare.”
She lifts her head and kisses me again, and soon we’re tumbling into out-of-control territory. She’s wrestling with my shorts, pushing them past my hips as I reach for her dress.
“Ass up,” I tell her.
She obeys, lifting her ass off the stairs so I can move the dress up her body. My only regret at taking it off is that she has to let go of me to lift her arms. But the sight makes up for it. She’s glorious. Her panties are next. She helps by lifting each leg and pointing her toes as I shimmy them off.
“Gorgeous,” I praise, the word on a loop in my brain. I kick my shorts off and reach for my T-shirt. My head buried in gray cotton for a split second, she surprises me by gripping me again. Once I can see what she’s doing, I watch. She’s looking at me as she strokes.
“Vince, you’re…”
“Huge?” I finish, a smirk on my face.
She quirks an eyebrow. “Enormous.”
My dick gives a happy pulse against her palm. It’s what every guy wants to hear.
I reach for her red lace bra and unhook it, sliding the straps down her arms. The moment I reveal her breasts, my brain short-circuits.
I’m a boob guy. Some guys like legs; others prefer asses. While I always notice a combination of those parts on a woman, it’s the breasts that are make-or-break.
Jackie’s are perfect.
I cup one, the perfect handful, and stroke my thumb over a dusky pink nipple. It pebbles beneath my touch, puckering in the cooler air. She strokes my cock and her lips come for mine. I kiss her because she wants me to, but I have something better to do with my mouth.
I break contact and busy my lips on the breast I’m not holding, circling my tongue over and over until her grip weakens and falls away.
Yes.
Don’t get me wrong, I want her to touch me, but I need a moment with two of the finest tits I’ve ever laid eyes on.
She whispers my name and her hands go to my head again, pushing my hair this way and that. I continue worshipping her B-bordering-on-C cups. They’re round and perky, her nipples the perfect quarter-size diameter. They look good, taste better, and bonus—she’s about to come simply because I’m suckling her.
So I don’t stop. Naturally.
A few lovingly placed kisses later, she pulls my hair and her backside arches off the steps as she comes. Damn. She orgasmed from that alone. I’m rock hard and ready and practically shaking when my hips wedge between her legs.
Her eyes are dazed, her mouth forming a tired smile. “I want you.”
“Trust me, Butler, you’re getting me.” Centimeters from burying myself in heaven, I pause, horrified that I didn’t think about the next step. I blink, dazed. “I need to grab a condom.”
She blinks too, clearly having forgotten that small, important detail as well. “Right. I mean, I’m on the pill, so no worries there. But you probably need one for STD purposes.”
“Right.” I back off, calculating the distance to the condoms in my bedroom nightstand or the medicine cabinet. I wonder which location is closer and how fast I can jog up the stairs and back down. “I’m clean. I was tested a month or so ago and I haven’t…I haven’t…” I shake my head, feeling like an idiot teenager because I don’t know how to tell Jackie I haven’t slept with anyone during that time. I’m too scared it’ll remind her that I slept with a few someones before then.
“I haven’t slept with anyone since Lex, so I’m good too.” Her arms open, her hands beckoning me. “Come here.”
“You’re sure?” I’m already lowering over her, because having no barrier between my cock and her sweet pussy is my own personal heaven.
“I want to feel you, Vince.” She kisses me sweetly, softly on the center of my lips. “I want to feel all of you.”
I’m not strong-willed enough to argue. I cave. My tongue slides into her mouth and she embraces me. I use that natural moment to tilt my hips and brush her center with the head of my penis. Then I deepen the kiss and deepen everything else.
I’m in.
Her gasp is one of approval and my groan pairs with a silent prayer. Please, God, don’t let me come too soon. Her slick channel grips me like a glove. I’m seated deep, and moving in and out of her in long, slow glides is the best sensation ever.
Not only because sex without a condom is phenomenal—and something I haven’t experienced since I was married—but because sex with Jackie while she’s watching me with those big melted-chocolate eyes is mind-blowing. I can’t believe it’s her. That she’s here. That we’re draped over several steps in my house and her heels are digging into my ass. I can’t believe she’s smiling at me with her slightly crooked grin as her cheeks warm and glow while I fuck her as reverently as possible.
“Nothing is as beautiful as you right now,” I tell her, my fingers pushing her hair from her face.
Her smile widens. “Thank you.”
“No, no,” I pant, trying to be funny but failing since I’m about to come apart, “thank you.”
“Ow.”
I stop.
“Keep going, keep going,” she urges. “It’s the carpet. It’s rubbing my back.”
“We can move,” I say, not wanting to move. Not wanting to pull out until we’ve both reached the finish line.
“No!” Her eyes grow fierce. “Don’t you dare.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I rest my elbows on the stairs and slide deep before pulling away and sliding deep again. I watch her fac
e, feel her squeeze me from within, and lose myself in the complete and utter perfection of being with her.
Minutes pass and I keep going despite a cramp creeping into my calf. I bite down on my bottom lip as Jackie cries out. A sharp, brief “Oh!” that confirms I’ve hit the jackpot.
Cramp be damned, I pick up the pace, gritting my teeth against my own building release. Finally she clutches, her body stiffening before her nails rake down my back.
I let go, coming so hard stars obliterate my vision for the few brief seconds when my brain shuts off like a switch. In that blissful blackness, there is only me, only Jackie. Only the damp sweat sticking our bodies together and her ragged breaths in my ear.
I thought it couldn’t get any better. I thought this was the highest of highs. Until she turns her head and utters three smart-ass, Jackie-worthy words into my ear.
“Nice work, Carson.”
Chapter 15
Jacqueline
“ ‘He’s down at the creek. Walking on water,’ ” I drawl in my best Doc Holliday impersonation. As usual, Vince and I are sacked out on his couch watching a movie. Tombstone. Unlike usual, my legs are draped over his, the popcorn is in my lap, and he hasn’t stopped touching me.
It’s fantastic.
After sex on the stairs, he helped me stand and we finished our trek to the upstairs master bathroom, where we showered and soaped each other, sexually satisfied grins on our faces. I praised his ability to maneuver expertly on the staircase and he assured me that was a first for him, which I found sweet. It was for me too.
We toweled off and I slipped into one of his T-shirts and a pair of boxers and, without discussing it, we came back downstairs for popcorn and a movie. It’s like things haven’t changed, which is awkward…because sex should change everything.
Right?
Vince yawns and I follow suit, fatigue from the busy day walloping me all at once.
“I should go,” I say, stretching my legs.
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